


Over

by SCFrankles



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: fan_flashworks, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/SCFrankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson thinks playing cricket with Holmes will be a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Challenge 143: On the Outside](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com/614645.html) at [Fan Flashworks](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com/) on LJ. 
> 
> Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are the creations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> * * *

After several days of fog and no cases, when the atmosphere finally improved Watson was keen for Holmes to get some air and exercise.

“We could go for a turn round the park perhaps.”

“No!” said Holmes, reclining listlessly on the sofa. “I will not risk missing a client.”

“What about taking a stroll up Baker Street..?”

“I’m not getting fully dressed just for that!”

Watson sighed. “Well, then. We’ll go out into the yard and have a game of cricket.”

_“Cricket!”_ Holmes sat up in utter horror. “Ridiculous game. And you know I don’t play it.”

Watson reminded himself to be stern. “Holmes, I do have to insist that you take _some_ form of exercise.”

Holmes glared at him for a moment but then his shoulders drooped. “All right. The cricket it is. I shall go and ask Billy and Bessie if they wouldn’t mind joining us.”

“That’s the spirit!” beamed Watson.

 

Out in the small backyard of 221 Baker Street, Holmes and bat moved into yet another slightly different position.

“Yes, that’s it! Perfect!” called Watson.

“At last!” said Holmes. “I do not see how you can have ‘leg before wicket’ anyway. We’re using the base of the plane tree.”

“These things are important, Holmes!” 

Watson indicated Bessie the maid who was close on Holmes’s left. “Now Bessie is silly mid on…”

Bessie looked worried.

Watson pointed at Billy who was a little behind Holmes. “And Billy is slips. You see, I’ve placed them in those positions because—” 

Holmes smiled tightly. “Watson, explain the rules of cricket just once more and our friendship is at an end. Throw the ball, try not to injure anything of importance and I will hit it away.”

Watson grinned and took a few steps away. “Ready?”

“Yes!”

Billy and Bessie nodded too. 

Watson did a short run-up and threw the ball overarm but gently.

Holmes hit it straight on with a smart _crack_ and it arced smoothly upwards towards the house.

“Wonderful, Mr. Holmes!” cried Billy.

Watson turned round to stare at the ball’s trajectory. “That’s a magnificent shot!”

The ball hit the house just under the guttering and bounced off at an angle, journeying towards the outside… convenience.

“Obviously I don’t have to have played the game to be good at it,” smirked Holmes. “It’s simply hand and eye working together and…”

The ball hit the roof of the small building and started hurtling towards the players again. 

“Good heavens!” In sudden fear for his skull, Watson involuntarily ducked down to the ground, arms over his head.

“That’s out, Mr. Holmes, sir!”

Watson straightened up and turned to see Bessie clutching the ball in both hands and grinning all over her face.

Watson beamed at her. 

“Well held, Bessie!”

“Yes, very well done.” Holmes tucked the bat under his arm. “What a shame. Back to the pavilion then for me I suppose.”

“No,” said Watson. “You can still—”

However, Holmes was already striding back towards the kitchen door.

Bessie smiled apologetically at Watson. “And I have to clean the hallway, sir.” She hurried after Holmes.

“And I need to be ready to admit any guests.” Billy ran after Bessie.

Watson grinned ruefully to himself. “Well, not much point playing on my own.” He wrinkled his brow. “Especially as Holmes and Bessie have gone off with the equipment…”

He paused. Something had caught his eye. 

He walked over to a bucket that was lying on its side, stooped, reached in and brought out a ball.

A cricket ball.

The cricket ball he had bowled to Holmes.

Watson groaned. It did not take a genius to work out that Bessie had had a second ball secreted in her pinny and that Billy had hidden the original after its landing. Which was lucky, as the only genius in the household was clearly behind the deception and was now busy making his escape.

Watson narrowed his eyes at the small group who were disappearing rapidly into the house.

“Well,” he said. “That’s just not cricket.”


End file.
